This story is the tenth in a series. Hopefully, it can be read pleasurably as a stand-alone work. The previous installments give some context.
Sarah and I had enjoyed a profitable and pleasurable trip to Munich. I soon realized that we had created something of a fantasy world for ourselves, working nude and enjoying a four-way sexual relationship among the partners, with guests welcome. Real life had intruded in our world once before when my original partner and lover, Amy, had developed cancer and died. Real life was about to intrude again.
Sarah and I had flown back from Munich on a Monday. Tuesday we were in the office reporting to our clients the conclusions of our German engineering expert and the work the Germans proposed to get their conclusions ready for courtroom presentation (although you always hope that a case won't go that far, the best way to get a case to settlement is to prepare vigorously for trial). The day's mail brought a rather thick and exotic looking envelope for Mala.
Mala was born an only child in Ohio. However, her parents had emigrated from India. Mala's parents had passed away a few years ago. The envelope was from a lawyer in Hyderabad transmitting several documents concerning the recent death of an uncle of Mala's. The cover letter explained that the uncle had established a business that had become very profitable by the time of his death, and the uncle had amassed significant wealth. However, the uncle had never married. Mala was his sole close relative and, as such, was the heir of his estate.
Mala was initially inclined to treat the letter as a hoax. Erin's Internet magic established, however, that a single male with Mala's family name had recently passed away in Hyderabad and that he did own a business as described in the letter and had been quite wealthy. Sarah took the role of Mala's counsel and called the Indian lawyer. Slowly, Mala and the rest of us became persuaded that the letter might be legitimate.
Mala finally decided that she needed to go to India to find out what the truth really was. Mala had only been to her ancestral homeland once when she was 13. Each of Sarah, Carla, and I offered to go with her, but Mala decided to go by herself.
From a professional standpoint, we hoped that Mala's absence would not be prolonged. She was our only transactional lawyer and our primary contact with a number of clients. Mala's expertise was not shared by any of the rest of us. We hoped that we could just 'keep the balls in the air' until she returned.
The Mala who came back from India after three weeks was a different lady than the Mala who had left for India. Almost her first action on returning to the office was to ask for a meeting. That morning, Mala, Sarah, Carla, and I sat nude in our conference room, joined by a clothed Erin. Mala dropped a bombshell.
Mala explained that, while she loved us very much, she had inherited a business which employed several hundred people. She felt that the business could not be run from the other side of the earth and that it was vital to the well-being of its workers and their families and to the regional economy. I also got the impression that Mala had been seduced by her parents' homeland and wanted to immerse herself in what was, after all, her culture. In short, Mala had painfully decided to leave us and move to India.
While Mala's leaving would be a huge loss professionally and personally, her passion while explaining her decision dissuaded us from trying to talk her out of going. The conversation quickly became practical. Mala was a co-owner of our home and said that she would deed her interest to Sarah, Carla, and me jointly and take herself off of our personal bank account and retirement funds. We insisted that we would buy back Mala's interest in the law firm, and Carla immediately called our accountant to ask her to formulate a valuation. The response a couple of days later was that a quarter interest in the firm's equity was currently worth $ 2 million.
Mala also scheduled meetings with her clients, many of which were attended only by Mala and Sarah, or Mala and Carla, or Mala and me. Claire, however, was a different matter. After some agonized discussion, we had collectively decided that we should offer Sarah to take over Claire's work from Mala. While this would be a huge change for Sarah and require her to swiftly master several new areas of law, we felt that Sarah was probably the best pure intellect among us and could make that transition more easily than Carla or me. Additionally, Sarah has a very strong but tactful personality. We felt that would be important to preserving our relationship with Claire and setting boundaries, such as they were. Since Claire's husband Rick had retired at the beginning of the year, Claire was less worried about the consequences of public disclosure. Consequently, Claire was becoming more imperious and more openly kinky.
Claire was the one of Mala's clients whom we felt that all four of us should meet with. So, Mala scheduled a meeting. Claire was the chair of a non-profit umbrella group over several contemporary and experimental arts groups. The group had offices on the fifth floor of a restored old building about ten blocks north of our offices in a gentrifying neighborhood. Claire agreed to meet with us there.
It was a warm day when the four of us got dressed in our professional suits and set off on foot for Claire's office (parking in that neighborhood now being extremely scarce). Exiting the new elevator on five put us in a corridor with the clear glass outside wall of the arts group and their door to our left. Across the corridor was the office of a local magazine, which also had a clear glass wall.
Inside the arts group's offices was a waiting area through which the workers apparently had to walk to move from one part of the office to another. There was also a reception desk manned by an attractive twenty-something brunette wearing a name tag that said "Allison." Mala introduced us to Allison and explained that we had a 10:00 a.m. appointment with Mrs. Robertson. Allison asked us to be seated, gesturing towards the waiting area, and said that she would let Mrs. Robertson know we were here.
As we sat down, I could see Allison pick-up her phone and dial a three digit extension. I heard Allison giving our names into the phone. Whatever response she received took a few seconds longer than usual and was apparently unclear because Allison frowned and asked for it to be repeated. Once Allison was certain of her instructions, she said a simple "yes" into the phone with a look of some disbelief on her face.
Allison stood from behind her desk, disclosing a very attractive figure well-packaged in a rather tight top and skirt, and walked the few steps to where we sat.
"Mrs. Robertson apologizes but she had been delayed by an urgent matter. She should be with you in a few minutes," Allison announced. Then, with a perplexed look, Allison added "I'm not sure what this means, but I was told that I should gather your clothes?"
We knew what it meant. Claire was playing with us. As gently as she could, Mala explained to Allison that "what Mrs. Robertson means is that she wants us to be nude for our meeting with her." Allison's expression suggested that she thought she was having a strange dream as the four of us took off our shoes, then stood and removed the rest of our clothing. As Allison gathered our clothes, she looked a bit better, having a concrete task at hand. Then I could see some confusion on her face as she tried to decide where to put our clothing. Apparently, Allison did not have a procedure for visitors who stripped naked in the reception area.
Unfortunately, the waiting area chairs were upholstered in vinyl, which was chilly and stuck to our bare asses. Nude etiquette called for a towel to sit on and I was wishing that I had one. Claire left us sitting for about twenty minutes. During that time, perhaps a dozen staff walked through the reception area, some multiple times. No one was bashful about looking at the three nude ladies and one nude old man sitting there, but no one said anything either. We were also visible to, and noticed by, people going in and out of the magazine's office across the hall.
After about fifteen minutes, Allison came back over to us. "I'm sorry. I don't know what is taking Mrs. Robertson so long. May I get you something to drink?"
We declined Allison's offer. Allison continued to stand there and, after a moment, said "May I ask you a question?" We nodded affirmatively.
With seeming embarrassment, Allison asked something that had obviously been on her mind since we had stripped. "How does it feel to be sitting there naked? Aren't you uncomfortable?"
Carla, being closest to Allison's age, answered "No, we're pretty used to it."
Allison persisted, "But aren't you embarrassed? I mean everyone's walking by and seeing you with nothing on."
